


We gon' RESONATE

by JenoTheSamoyed



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Begging, Boys Kissing, Business Trip, Child Lee Jeno, Child Na Jaemin, Child Neglect, Dreaming, Dreams vs. Reality, Drunk Kissing, Falling In Love, Feelings, Gang Leader Lee Taeyong, Gen, Homelessness, Illegal Activities, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing in the Rain, Light Dom/sub, Making Up, OT23 (NCT), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Past Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Piano, Post-Break Up, Protective Nakamoto Yuta, Rain, Rainbows, Sad Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Sad Lee Jeno, Sad Qian Kun, School Projects, Soft Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, The world is cruel, artist renjun, donghyuck best boy, nct resonance, nomin are besties, sad renjun, slight degradation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenoTheSamoyed/pseuds/JenoTheSamoyed
Summary: A fic for every song off Resonance!{Same oneshots as before but I've grouped them all into one fic because it's tidier}
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Jung Sungchan/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Jungwoo, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Qian Kun, Moon Taeil/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 22





	1. 90's Love: 2Chan

The night is cold when Donghyuck stumbles out of the bar. Chilling air tickles his cheeks and gets into his brain to mix and mess with the fog from the alcohol. He's not drunk, just tipsy.

Tipsy enough to stumble along the pavement and nearly barrel into a bin. His head spins just as much as his balance while he flails his arms around to try to find something to grip onto.

His trainers are muddy and his black jeans are baggy, allowing the air to find a route up inside them and all over his legs. His t-shirt is also baggy. Donghyuck is now grateful for the long sleeves, because they serve as a useful protection from the night, and the top is striped grey, red, white and black. He got it fairly cheaply and he has had it for years. He didn't bother to dress up to go to the bar.

Tonight is not a fancy night out with friends. There's nothing to celebrate.

Tonight is a night of drinking to forget.

Mark. Minhyung. Names that make his heart clench just at the sound of them.

Being suddenly single brings him an immense feeling of sadness. Deep, dark sadness. It seeps right into his bones and taints the way he sees the world.

The stars aren't beautiful - they only disturb the otherwise perfect blankness of the sky. The music in the bar was not exciting - it sent irritating vibrations through his body and into his ears.

He found the exit before he could even touch his fourth shot.

Mark would have told him to stop after one. But Mark is no longer with him. He's somewhere in Canada now, far away on the other side of the globe. He said he wasn't ready for a long-distance relationship. Well, he would have been if he really cared about Donghyuck.

Their relationship was only another thing that didn't last forever. 

But Donghyuck likes to believe that he is a positive person. He believes that a lot of things do in fact last forever.

Even a relationship can. He just needs to find the right person.

His phone beeps. He groans and has to stop leaning against the shop window to find it in his pocket, and when he pulls it out he fumbles to hit the correct button to read the message on the tiny screen. Jeno is asking if he's showing up to work tomorrow.

Tomorrow is Saturday. No one wants to do the Saturday shift, having better and more thrilling things to do than stack shelves in a dingy corner shop. But he and Jeno were allocated it. They have fun, sometimes. There is a small box TV next to the tills which provides a bit of entertainment, or maybe they can listen in on some old ladies' gossip.

But Donghyuck doesn't want to go tomorrow. He doesn't feel ready to face the world with how low he is feeling. Mark was supposed to be The One and even he doesn't want him anymore. So what was the point?

He doesn't reply to the text. His head is pounding and would impede his ability and patience to press the buttons in search of the right letters. Instead, his phone gets shoved back into his pocket.

Donghyuck rubs his hands over his face and his vision blurs even more when he blinks afterwards. The street is empty and silent besides the chaos from inside the bar.

He walks away down the pavement. His steps are heavy and his heart matches. The music and the shouts fade away into the distance and he eventually turns into another street.

"Come on. You can do this. Sleep it off. You don't need alcohol just to feel something." He mutters to himself and then has to take a break and lean against somebody's garden fence to steady himself before continuing.

"Are you alright, sir?" A car speeds past them, the exhaust crackling and leaving distasteful fumes in the air. It drowns out the voice, but not enough for Donghyuck to miss it.

He spins around, going dizzy from the sudden movement, and squints through the darkness to try to find who spoke.

"Sir?" Again, the voice is sweet and confident. Two things Donghyuck isn't sure he can be anymore.

"Huh?" Donghyuck grunts out.

"Are you drunk?" The stranger follows him until they are stood underneath a streetlight.

The beams fall onto his face and allow Donghyuck to get a glimpse at who the boy is. He can't be much younger than him, with shiny, dark brown hair bouncing on his head. It flops onto his forehead except where it has been parted in the middle. Donghyuck thinks it is a cute touch. His lips are plump and his nose is dainty. His eyes reflect the light and create such a beautiful pattern that Donghyuck can't help but smile.

"No." He replies. His voice feels foreign and unsteady. He receives a raised eyebrow, and curses himself for giving himself away. "Fine. Yes, I am. Just a little." He uses his fingers to demonstrate the tiny, weeny bit of alcohol he ingested at the bar.

"Are you alright?" The boy repeats his initial question and Donghyuck vaguely nods. Another unpersuaded expression is shot in his direction. "What's your name?"

What is his name? Not Mark's boyfriend. That's all Donghyuck can think to call himself until he realises how utterly insane he would sound. This boy is cute. He has to make a good first impression.

"Donghyuck." He states, after a long pause.

"I'm Sungchan." The boy smiles and Donghyuck kicks a pebble out of the way.

"You know," a hiccup escapes his throat before he manages to continue. "Jeno calls me Haechan. Haechan and Sungchan. Sungchan and Haechan." He giggles at his finding, nearly toppling over and Sungchan has to grip onto his shoulders to stop him from actually falling.

"Right." He clears his throat.

"Sorry. That was weird." Donghyuck suddenly sobers up again and brushes his top with his hands so that he can focus on something else.

Something else besides how cute Sungchan is. Donghyuck is bedazzled by the way he approached him, a complete stranger, just to ask if he was okay. That shows confidence and consideration for others. It makes his stomach flutter. He has been single for a total of nearly thirty two gruelling hours and he is craving a fresh start.

A new romance.

Call him crazy, but he spent two years drunk on his love for Mark. Now, he is drunk on the cheapest drinks the bar sold. They burnt his throat and gave him no release except a thumping headache which at least diverted his attention a bit.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" Sungchan offers. Donghyuck doesn't think. He just accepts the proposal and links arms with the other.

"You're cute." He blurts out. The mist of alcohol over his mind saves him from the embarrassment of such a confession. Sungchan nearly trips over a discarded glass bottle.

"You think?"

"Mmmh."

"Well, thanks, I guess?" Sungchan stutters. Donghyuck finds it rather endearing.

His brain is going haywire. It must be the pain of the rejection, and of the recent break-up, because he is analysing every move Sungchan makes and instantly creates scenarios and reasons why he should date him based off them.

"You're meant to say it back, silly." Donghyuck pokes the other in the side and elicits a squeak, and he squeals. He suddenly turns serious. "Unless you don't think I'm cute."

And Donghyuck has his reasons for thinking that. Rejection and heartbreak are evil, and they snuck up on him in the worst way possible and snatched away all of his reassurances.

"No, I think you're cute, too." He can tell that Sungchan blushes by the hesitant tone of his voice and Donghyuck pulls him closer into his side.

They reach another streetlight.

"Then kiss me."

"What?"

"Kiss me."

Donghyuck has to look up at Sungchan. But he likes feeling small and loved and looked after and wanted. His lips tingle when Sungchan's tongue comes out to lick over his own.

"No. I shouldn't force you." Donghyuck takes a deep inhale. "I've been going through a lot recently and my thoughts are all over the place and I-"

A pair of lips collides with his own.


	2. Dancing In The Rain: JaeWoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got a bit more heated than I was expecting... um... it's not nsfw but still kinda steamy... so yeah be warned :D

The sun had been shining high in the sky when they left. Now, rain is pelting the pavement as they amble down the street. Jaehyun doesn't mind the rain because his own sunshine is still glowing. He doesn't care what the weather is like as long as Jungwoo is there with him.

Jungwoo swings their hands between them and jumps from puddle to puddle like an overexcited puppy, giggling each time the water splashes up around his ankles. His hair is absolutely soaked and the black strands are plastered to his forehead. His damp coat glistens just as much as the glee in his smile. Jaehyun squeezes his hand a little tighter and Jungwoo slows down to walk by his boyfriend's side, pecking his lips with a passionate grin.

They take a turn down a quieter street, away from the hurried pedestrians and boisterous children either whining or playing in the rain. Their feet fall into an easy rhythm. Neither of them are in a rush. It may be pouring with the heaviest rain they've had so far this year, but their shivers are counteracted by the warmth they share from tightly holding hands.

"You'll catch a cold, Woo." Jaehyun tuts and helps the younger to zip up his coat. A dainty blush reaches his ears and Jungwoo bites back his tongue to stop himself from teasing him for it. He simply thanks him and they continue walking. Jaehyun may seem uninterested or cold with his emotions when it comes to other people at college, but he is soft for Jungwoo. Would do anything for him. Jungwoo feels blessed to be the one who can make him unravel under the slightest touch or compliment.

The clouds overhead are grey and heavy, but some of them are lighter to reveal little patches of the blue sky above. Jungwoo thinks it is rather beautiful. But not as beautiful as Jaehyun, he thinks as he leans in to catch his lips in another kiss. Jaehyun squeaks quietly from the shock but soon melts into the contact.

Their lips dance together in unison. The routine has been perfected for three years now, and Jungwoo snakes his arms around Jaehyun's waist to pull him closer, then they slide underneath his coat to bathe in the warmth and soft material of his hoodie. Jaehyun wraps his own arms around Jungwoo's neck. Their mouths continue to slide against each other, breaths mingling as their love dissolves over their tongues. The raindrops are freezing cold each time another one lands on their heads. But the sensation sends a thrill through their bodies and reminds them of how they are doing this in public. They are so close. The rain makes the kiss wetter, messier, and hotter, in a sense.

Jungwoo can't help but reach underneath the hem of Jaehyun's hoodie this time, and Jaehyun lets out a soft moan which signals that it is time to pull away. The older tries to chase Jungwoo's lips and fall into another kiss, but Jungwoo just winks and rests a finger on his mouth.

"Naughty." He teases. Jaehyun pouts and snatches Jungwoo's hand into his own and tugs him along the street. An elderly couple glare at them from across the road, but Jungwoo continues to smirk.

His lips are now swollen and Jaehyun thinks it compliments the dripping hair and flushed cheeks perfectly. From the way that Jungwoo is practically eating him alive with his gaze alone, he can tell that he looks the same.

"Stop staring." He mumbles. Jungwoo rolls his eyes.

"You can't just moan like that in the middle of the street." Jungwoo punches his shoulder lightly. The older stamps his feet particularly hard through a puddle and bites his bottom lip. It has become more sensitive and he has to stop himself from whining again.

"You provoked me. Your hands were under my hoodie." Jaehyun points out to try to defend himself. It doesn't work very well because Jungwoo gives him an innocent expression, batting his pretty eyelashes as though he were about to claim that he would never do such a thing.

Neither of them continue the conversation. They carry on and eventually cross over the street. They find themselves taking the longest possible route back to campus, but it means that they get more time by themselves before having to face their rowdy roommates. Yuta and Mark are lovely people, of course, but it sometimes becomes a bit too much if they are screaming over a video game while Jaehyun and Jungwoo just want some alone time.

The rain calms down a little bit, but it is still cold and Jaehyun finds himself leaning closer and closer to Jungwoo in search of his warmth. He smells nice, too.

What he is really searching for, though, is another kiss. There are butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and they yearn to feel Jungwoo close to him again. Jungwoo is too busy splashing through puddles. It frustrates Jaehyun, how he can be so confident and teasing in one minute and then playful like a small child the next. It confuses him to no end. He isn't sure which side he prefers. He loves both of them, everything about Jungwoo is perfect.

He uses the fact that their fingers are intertwined to gradually tug Jungwoo towards him. The younger suddenly stops his game to stare at Jaehyun with a raised eyebrow. Jaehyun swallows and feels his ears burn.

"I know what you're trying to do, baby." Jungwoo says.

For a second, he thinks that Jungwoo is about to run off and leave him alone on the pavement, but he scolds himself for even thinking that once he can feel Jungwoo's lips on his own again. He smiles as though he has just won a grand prize. Jungwoo is so good to him.

"Are you starting to get more confident, sweetheart? Do I have competition? It's a bit pathetic, isn't it?" Jungwoo says in a tone that is mocking, but not past their limits, and Jaehyun whimpers into the kiss. He is desperate for the attention and now that Jungwoo is giving it to him, he can slowly feel himself losing it. He is going crazy. His hands are on his boyfriend's hips, then on his neck, then on his cheeks, then tugging on his hair. They eventually land on his belt. "A little too confident." Jungwoo notes. "Do you like the idea of those people over there catching us?"

Jaehyun doesn't know how to respond. Jungwoo is successfully pressing all of his buttons and his mind is dancing, enjoying every second of it. He nervously glances over to the group of college students who are laughing and shouting in their own world further down the street. He can recognise a couple of them. He swallows the lump in his throat.

"I..." He starts, but doesn't know how to respond. "I just love you, Woo. I love you so much and I want you."

Jungwoo seems to soften upon hearing his confession. Although he is having fun too, he knows that they really should not be doing this in public. The rain is still pattering, in a much more forgiving pattern now. Jaehyun stares at a murky puddle. His body is on fire.

"I'm sorry. I love you too, Jaejae." Jungwoo pecks the back of his hand. "Let's get back, yeah?"

"Don't apologise." Jaehyun fumbles to find his words. That pet name has him reeling every time it leaves his boyfriend's lips. "You know I... you know I like that sort of thing." His sentence trails off into an embarrassed mutter. He peeks at Jungwoo's reaction. He seems like he is pondering hard over his thoughts.

"I know you like it. But we're both soaking wet and... no. Don't say make the joke I think you are about to make." Jungwoo can't help but let a smile tug at the corner of his lips when Jaehyun's eyes light up in amusement. Their cheeks are flushed from the stares of other people, the arousal and the harsh rain all combined. "Let's just get back."

They increase the pace of their steps for the final part of their journey. Their attraction for each other spurs them on to push past the students and umbrellas milling around.

"Babe, look!" Jungwoo tugs on Jaehyun's hand and points into the sky.

The sun is poking out from behind a particularly dark cloud, shining as brightly as Jungwoo's smile as always, and Jaehyun follows the finger until his eyes take in the sight of the rainbow. It arches through the sky and adds a perfect splash of colour.

"It's so pretty!" Jungwoo exclaims and snaps a photo with his phone, then pulls Jaehyun in for a selfie even though he mumbles a complaint about how they both look a mess.

"Pretty like you." Jaehyun says. His voice nearly betrays him but Jungwoo eats the compliment up and leads the way into their dorm so they can finish what they started.


	3. 백열등 Light Bulb: DoKun

Kun stares at the photo. The sharp shards of glass are smoothed out by the blur settling into his eyes. Tears threaten to fall, but he sucks in a breath and wipes them away before treading over to the sofa. He'll sit and wait. Doyoung will come back eventually. Whether he has to wait ten minutes or ten years, Kun and his heart will not give up.

-

Doyoung finds himself stood on the corner of a street. His heart is racing in his chest and it aches, screaming and demanding for him to be able to curl up in Kun's arms. Technically he could. He could turn around and run back to their apartment, but his anger and pride keep his feet fixed to the pavement. The clouds are dark and ominous. The rain comes.

-

There was a time when they were happy. They met in college. Music college, in fact, and Doyoung had followed the sound of a piano through the corridors until he found the room it was coming from. The music was so beautiful but so sad, and it was obvious that the pianist was throwing so many emotions into every single note. Since he first heard Kun playing the piano, he knew he was the one for him.

Doyoung had approached Kun when the music stopped. The end came abruptly, mid-phrase, and Kun sighed, slouching over the piano and thumping the keys to let out his frustrations. Doyoung went in and smoothed out his frown with sweet encouragements and eventually a kiss.

They went from strangers to lovers within a week. The two of them did everything together. They composed songs. Their voices complimented each other perfectly and their hearts intertwined a little bit more with every lyric.

But every song has an end. And so does their relationship, it seems.

-

The living room is dim but Kun doesn't have the energy to make it across the room to turn the light on. The sofa is too soft. He hugs a cushion to his chest and remnants of Doyoung's perfume fill his nose, clouding his mind a bit more. Where did they go wrong? The last five months have been full of bickering, which started to morph into arguments, but they always came crawling back into each others' hearts with an apology and a tender kiss. He decides to wait a bit longer.

-

The photo is of the two of them. It's one of many. But this one is broken, like their relationship. The frame fell to the floor amongst their yelling and the glass smashed as soon as it hit the floor. Shards dispersed everywhere, and their love died away. Not really, but their mouths claimed that to be the case.

I hate you!

Go away!

Get out!

And that was that.

Their smiles remain in the photo and in the photo only.

-

Doyoung enters a small café. It's not until he sits down that he realises that is hair is dripping from the rain and his skin is shivering from the cold. It's also the café where they used to sit and chat for hours on end. Used to. Doyoung doesn't order anything, for he doesn't think his raw throat would be able to cope with that. He just slumps into a seat in the far corner and closes his eyes. People come and go, indicated by the little bell jingling above the door. His tongue feels heavy and awkward in his mouth. It is riddled with the guilty reminders of the words he spat out. He didn't mean them. He still doesn't mean them. His ears ring with the horrible reminders of the words Kun spat at him. He knows that Kun doesn't mean them. But they still said them. Where did they go wrong?

-

For six years it was Kun and Doyoung. Doyoung and Kun. The two of them could conquer the world. They met in college, graduated together, moved in together and bought promise rings together. Everything was perfect, for six years. Their friends admired their devotion to each other. Their families were proud of them.

Now that they're apart, they are both lost. Each stranded in the loneliness of their thoughts, they have time to think everything through and remind themselves of the promises they made and the memories they share. Kun and Doyoung look down at the rings on their fingers. They do it at the same time, but they don't know that. Because they're not together.

I love you...

I love you so much...

Please come back...

-

Kun is still waiting. The sun has completely set and his hopes are dwindling away just like the light. He grasps onto the final glimmers. The glass is still on the floor. He feels helpless. Doyoung had been at his side every single day for six years and now he isn't. He doesn't know what to do. His original plan of sitting and waiting for his boyfriend to return now seems futile. His mind tells him so, whilst his heart is reminding him that their love always wins. Everything is conflicting.

He musters the energy to walk over to the piano. He sits down and traces his fingers over the keys, letting the first note ring out as a test. It ignites the fire within him and lets the anger and sorrow rage.

His heart guides him through the song he knows best.

-

Doyoung can hear it. The first song they wrote together plays in his head. It is stuck on loop. He knows the melody by heart and he can clearly remember all of the lyrics. They wrote it on the day of their one month anniversary. It had originally been a silly idea; two college students with a passion for music and for each other, but it lasted. Both the song and their love lasted. A barista comes over to politely tell him that the café is closing so he should get on his way and he stumbles out onto the street. The rain has calmed down, so he can see the way more easily, even through the darkness. He knows what he has to do.

-

Kun reaches the end of the song and starts again from the beginning straight away. He doesn't want to stop playing. He can't stop playing. It feels as though the music will summon Doyoung back. The salty tears in his eyes prevent him from being able to see the keys but it doesn't matter because he can play it simply through muscle memory. His head is pounding. He can't focus on anything except the music.

-

Doyoung can't focus on anything except the route back home. He runs as fast as he believes he has ever run in his entire life. His face is damp from the rain and his tears. Breathing is difficult and his throat is becoming more and more constricted, but he never stops. Not until he reaches their front door.

-

Five years ago, on their one year anniversary, Doyoung had stood outside their front door. He wasn't gasping for breath, but his heart was still thumping in his chest. The door was perfectly white, representing the purity and goodness of their relationship, and it hadn't yet had the chance to become dirty because they only moved in three weeks prior.

He was clutching a huge bouquet of flowers in his hands. It was so big that he could barely see over the top of them to unlock the front door. Kun had been practising the piano when he walked in, then the music stopped when he took in the sight of his boyfriend clutching the flowers. Kun ran up to his boyfriend, and Doyoung's smile turned from nervous to overjoyed. They hugged and kissed and cried together. They were genuinely happy. And nothing could take that away from them.

-

Doyoung takes a deep breath and unlocks the door. Kun is playing a rendition of their first duet, but the tempo is laboured and the melodies die away as though all of his energy is depleting quickly.

They meet in the middle of the hallway. They stare at each other as best as they can through the walls of tears coating their eyes.

Then they collapse into each others' arms.

I'm sorry.

You came back?

I'll never leave you again.

-

They didn't mean the harsh words they said. Both of them were tired from work and fed up of the pointless bickering that has filled the recent months, until a minor disagreement made everything disintegrate. They pour out their hearts and their feelings for each other. The tears dry up and the cracks heal. They make new promises, all sealed with a kiss. No more arguing, no more shouting, just a lot more loving.

Their relationship has been on and off for the past five months, but there has been one constant throughout the six years that they have known each other.

They always come back.


	4. Misfit: the 7 members

"That's not fair!"

Yangyang chucks his set of cards down onto the concrete and jumps to tackle Hendery to the floor. It always gets too heated when they play any sort of card game together. Sometimes Taeyong is so close to just shredding the whole deck.

"I didn't cheat! I'm not cheating! I swear!" Hendery gasps out, nearly choking from how Yangyang has a firm grip on his hoodie, their noses mere inches apart.

"Then where did you get that fifth ace from, huh?"

"Boys!" Taeyong marches over to where they are lunging at each other in the corner, the thud of his boots on the concrete floor resounding and echoing just as much as their shouts. "Give me the cards."

Yangyang and Hendery stare up at him as though he has asked them to chop their arms off. His eyes and cheeks are sunken, and his faded blue sweater is threadbare. They haven't gone shopping in months. But they also haven't had any income for months.

"Well? Give me the cards." Taeyong repeats, firmer this time, and both teenagers scuffle on the floor to collect them up and hand them over to him in a messy stack. "Thank you. And I told you to keep it down, didn't I?" He raises an eyebrow. The two boys chew on their bottom lips and train their eyes to the floor, guilty but apologetic.

"Is Mark feeling any better?" Yangyang asks. He peers past the gang leader to the old mattress in the corner.

Mark is asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling, and Johnny is sat cross-legged at his side, tenderly stroking his thumb over the back of his hand. Mark has been like it for three full days now. His swollen ankle still won't fit into his trainers.

"He's gradually improving. Don't worry. We'll just have to hope that the police don't track us down again, as he's in no state to run and I'm not leaving him here, either. Do you think you could go out for a couple of hours? Maybe collect some money to buy painkillers for him?" Taeyong asks bleakly, before turning and walking back over to the makeshift bed. The two teenagers understand that it is more of a demand than a question.

Hendery swallows. Their situation is far from ideal. The seven of them are castaways, rejected from their families and left to fend for themselves on the backstreets of Seoul. It has been harsh, without a doubt. But it has also shaped them to be tough and fearless and strong. Their minds are sharp and resilient. Each day poses new challenges that require nothing but bold skill to overcome.

Yangyang motions for Hendery to stand up and then they both traipse over to a small room in the corner of the warehouse. In the main building, the ceiling is high and corrugated, with pipes exposed to the vicious wind that enters through the glassless windows. The pipes don't carry anything; they have no running water, no electricity, nothing. The food they eat comprises of scraps from the streets and only occasionally do they get to treat themselves to a shop-bought loaf of bread and bottles of water if a stranger is kind enough to bless them with some spare change.

But the small room is warmer. It likely used to serve as an office for whoever ran the company that operated in the warehouse many years ago. There is a wooden desk spanning one wall, and a wonky bookshelf which has been cluttered with their most treasured items. Jeno keeps his collection of feathers and stones he has found in the outside world, whilst Sungchan has decorated his shelf with a biscuit tin of action figures - the sole possessions he managed to salvage from his home on the day his parents kicked him out. The floor is covered in pillows and blankets, which came from Jeno's family house when he raided it three months prior. It was not long after they stumbled across this abandoned, undiscovered warehouse whilst on the run from the police. The sirens had faded into the distance - once they'd lost them the officers clearly thought that a group of troubled youngsters wasn't worth the effort.

Yangyang knocks on the door, and Jeno shouts at them to come in, seemingly through a yawn. It is confirmed when the two teenagers swing open the door to find Jeno curled up beside Sungchan underneath a blanket, with a pillow clutched to his chest, gazing groggily up at them.

"Get up, lazy. We have to go out." Hendery kicks at the lump where he thinks his legs are, but it elicits a yelp from Sungchan instead, who has also just woken up from a deep sleep.

"Don't want to." Sungchan mumbles and tries to cover his head with the blanket. It only gets pulled back again by Yangyang.

"Taeyong said we have to." Hendery says. Jeno and Sungchan finally stir and drag their aching limbs out from under the messy covers.

"Hurry up! We need to collect enough money for painkillers before sunset." Yangyang claps his hands then heads back into the main part of the building.

"Are you going out?" Johnny calls over to him and he nods, wringing his fingers together. The thought of facing the world makes his stomach churn every time. But it has to be done. "Thank you so much. Markie here really needs it. Be safe, yeah?"

"We will. We always are." Yangyang reassures the man before banging on the door of the office, not content until the other three file out.

"Quiet!" Taeyong hisses. "Have you got everything? Your clothes... actually no, they'll be fine. You're begging for money so you have to look the part. Don't get your cleaner clothes on. Be back by sunset, alright?"

The four youngest members of the gang chant their promises back to their leader, who then kisses each of their foreheads in turn. Taeyong checks over their cardboard signs and sends them off.

The first thing they sense when they tread through the knotted weeds in the grass surrounding the warehouse is the scent of fresh air. The sweet aroma of the plants, no matter how untidy they may be, is enough to clear their minds of the worries about what could happen. There are too many possibilities. Whilst they have surely dealt with the worst of them already, imagining scenarios of them on the streets of the city raises their pulses and traps their breath in their throats.

They know they are close to the urban streets because they have walked this route through the forest hundreds of times, but also because the roaring of car engines fills their ears. A particularly deep and gruff one passes, and Jeno shivers.

The midday sun is hot, though. Their stained sweatpants and thick hoodies and jackets feel like luxuries in the winter. But each summer they try to save enough money to buy some cheap t-shirts for themselves, and yet the change always has to be spent on food. They rarely scavenge enough for clothes, so they just move on and face the ridiculous temperatures with defeat but content stomachs.

"Who's doing the talking?" Yangyang pipes up when they are just one row of trees away from the main road.

"You, since you asked." Jeno says. Yangyang grumbles and opens his mouth to argue. When he sees the other three staring at him, he realises that he has already lost this battle and grudgingly walks ahead.

People move out of way when they head down the pavement. Instead of it feeling like a superpower, it only makes them sink into themselves and keep their heads down. Scowls and mutterings of disgust tumble onto their ears and they try their hardest to ignore the mean words, but it is easier said than done. They know they look scruffy. They know they probably smell. But they can't help it. It's not their fault.

Society made them like this. No one cares about them. They simply stare down their long noses at them, spitting about how it's their own fault they're misfits in the world. And turning the blame back onto their opponent isn't worth another twisted - possibly broken - ankle.

The reminder of Mark's incessant screams and cries and then his hours of hazy sleep increases the pace of their steps. They're willing to face the ignorance of the public if it means he can heal.

When they reach their usual alleyway between a run-down café and a clothing shop, they sort through the signs and mentally prepare themselves.

"This one?" Hendery selects the largest of the pile. They have written four signs in total, each scrawled in a black marker and shouting about how they are just in need of a bit of money to buy food.

But the largest one is the most desperate one.

They wrote it months ago, as a lie to get some sympathy. Now it is true.

OUR BROTHER IS SICK AND WE DONT HAVE MONEY FOR MEDICINE. PLEASE HELP.

"Right. You hold it." Hendery passes it to Yangyang  
and then they file back out onto the street and collapse down outside the café.

People pass. No one spares them a second glance. It is hard to believe that they can't even spare a single coin, though, with their designer sunglasses and handbags and shoes.

"Excuse me-"

Yangyang tries to get an elderly woman's attention but she doesn't hear.

"Excuse me?"

He tries again, this time leaning towards a middle-aged couple that definitely aren't short of cash. But it seems like their riches have got inside their heads.

"Sir, I-"

Jeno hides partly behind Sungchan. The boy is tall and provides shade from both the beating sun and the judging stares; there's always someone whose gaze lingers for a second longer than necessary.

"Miss? Hi, we-"

"Excuse me..."

Yangyang's voice sounds so defeated and tired. His fingers grip the cardboard unsteadily.

"Oh my goodness!" A young lady stops in front of them. "Poor dears." The four boys look up at her with wide eyes.

None of them dare to speak while she pulls her fat purse out of her handbag. Six whole notes are pressed into Hendery's palm. They nearly break their backs from bowing with gratitude.

"Best wishes to you and your brother." The woman smiles one final time, her eyes glinting in the sun and complimenting the sparkly hair tie around her ponytail, and she sets off to continue her shopping spree.

"How much?"

They sift through the money and their eyes grow wider and wider with excitement and glee at the final sum. It's nearly four times the amount they are lucky to receive over the course of a day.

"We could get medicine and a whole buffet of food with this!" Sungchan exclaims and they gather the signs under their shoulders and race down the street to the pharmacy.

The box of medicine drains just under half of the money, which leaves a very generous sum for them to indulge in.

They gawp at the colourful packaging of the food in each isle of the supermarket.

"I remember these!" Jeno shouts and waves around a bag of oranges. Yangyang lugs a huge box of bottled water and Jeno adds the fruit to the trolley, landing it on the packet of chicken nuggets.

It's fun. They feel free and like normal teenagers for an hour. Several coins still remain in their pockets after the cashier gives them the change and their receipt, and they leave the shop with a bag each. The sun is still shining high in the sky.

"It's nowhere near sunset yet!" Jeno points at the sun and beams back at the other teenagers. "We must have been out for, what, an hour or two?"

The others hum in agreement.

"So we can do what we want until sunset." Yangyang draws the conclusion from the statement with an excited bounce in his steps.

And they do. They race through the alleyways. Sungchan stumbles across an unopened can of spray paint, which they use to decorate the skatepark with their initials. They manage to smuggle a bottle of lemonade out of a corner shop, then they shake it and fight over it, and eventually Hendery is the one who manages to shoot the explosion of bubbles all over the grass in a swirling puddle. Finally, they shove a blanket under Jeno's hoodie and race out of the home deco store, giggling from the adrenaline surging through their blood.

They collapse onto a bench in the park. All four of them are out of breath but their energy is electric. The three hours of running loose over the city was incredible. They don't care that everything they did was illegal.

Society has no right to stop them if people don't care enough to throw them a coin or two. That lady was an extremely rare blessing.

"We should get back." Jeno says.

So they collect up their shopping bags full of food and check that the box of painkillers is still there, then retrace their steps through the trees to the warehouse. Their home. It's way better than the bridge they camped under before. And maybe things will get even better once the medicine works its wonders.


	5. My Everything: XiaoRen

4 o'clock.

That was when Xiaojun's bus was due.

But 4 o'clock came. The bus came too, and Xiaojun wasn't on it.

Renjun had perked up and pushed to the front of the line of people waiting to get on, but his boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. He had desperately interrogated the driver, even shoved a sketch of him in his face, but he had sadly shaken his head.

So Renjun retreated back under the cover of the bus stop and thought that maybe the bus was running late. He hoped and prayed that Xiaojun was fine. There hadn't been a crash. He was fine.

He will turn up.

Renjun flicks to a clean page in his sketchbook. It's a premium quality one that Xiaojun bought for him on his birthday. That fact makes his heart sink even more when he realises that most of the pages are now full of drawings of Xiaojun. They start off colourful, clearly documenting the acrylic phase he went through, then the new coloured pencils he purchased.

Now, in the more recent works, the colour has faded away to insecure pencil lines.

Renjun doesn't need a reference. He can draw his beautiful boyfriend entirely from memory, even though he left for a business trip four months ago.

It's been four months since Renjun last hugged Xiaojun, since he was last curled up in his arms, since he last kissed his perfect lips.

Something about the number four haunts Renjun. It's an unlucky number anyway, but previously he hadn't been so convinced by the superstitions. Today he is very sure that the number four is cursed.

The rain patters down against the bus stop, creating a dull but soothing rhythm that helps to slow the pulse of his heart back down to a healthy rate. A car ambles past and the headlights make the drops shimmer and sparkle on their descent. He finds it rather pretty. They are like jewels hidden in the darkness.

He stores the memory away as inspiration for a future painting, then allows the images of Xiaojun's face take centre stage once more.

His pencil glides across the paper, but there is too much weight in the strokes and the shading isn't satisfactory enough. He's been sat here all afternoon and has produced four mediocre drawings.

Four. Again. He needs to do a fifth to help to ease his mind and remove the curse of that number.

But the pencil doesn't cooperate with his hand and his hand doesn't cooperate with his brain. His friends, family, even strangers (but mostly Xiaojun) have always complimented him on his artistic skills. He wants to keep the meaning in his boyfriend's words by not letting him down and keeping his standards up.

His wrist hurts. His heart hurts. A breath catches in his throat and he rubs furiously at his eyes to stop any tears from falling. There is a college student sat mere feet away from him.

Another bus comes and goes, taking the student with it and leaving Renjun alone with his thoughts. He checks the time on his phone. He smiles sadly at the lock screen photo of him and his boyfriend, then just about catches the numbers 5:03 before the screen turns to black, battery dead.

Now he has no way of communicating with Xiaojun and he feels even more alone on the street he has spent his entire afternoon on. The bus stop has a thin roof and three metal walls with adverts for the latest burgers and movies on them, but enough of the wind makes it inside to snatch his breath away from him.

Four long months ago, he had sat in this exact place on the same street whilst waiting for the bus to the airport with Xiaojun. Renjun had spent the morning reassuring Xiaojun that the plane will be safe and that he will make it Europe unscathed. A part of Renjun panics then. What if the plane crashed and not the bus?

He quickly recalls that Xiaojun texted him when the plane landed, and Renjun rests a hand over his chest as he inhales deeply and slowly.

It's okay. He'll turn up.

While waiting for the bus those four months ago, he was drawing Xiaojun with a pretty purple pen which had a tiny jewel on the top and it sparkled when it hit the light. Xiaojun's eyes always sparkle in the light, too. Renjun wants to snap the blunt pencil that has only failed him time and time again today.

Renjun remembers the way that his head was resting on Xiaojun's broad shoulder as he lazily sketched away.

He loves drawing his boyfriend, but today it is a chore.

A third bus comes. Not quite the dreaded four, so Renjun fills with hope.

"Xiaojun!"

He throws the sketchbook onto the metal bench and launches himself into his boyfriend's arms. Xiaojun hurries to ensure that they are properly under the cover of the bus stop and not in the pouring rain.

"Junnie! Hi, baby." Xiaojun replies in his smooth voice that Renjun has only been able to hear over the phone for far too long.

Their hug is warm and sweet and everything Renjun needed.

Xiaojun is his everything.

He inhales his natural scent, relaxing even further when he notes how it hasn't changed in the slightest despite the multiple hotels Xiaojun has stayed in during his trip.

"Missed you." Renjun mumbles against Xiaojun's shoulder. "Missed you so much."

Xiaojun rubs his hand up and down Renjun's back and hums a gentle ballad into his ear. Renjun doesn't want to ever let go.

"I missed you too." Xiaojun says. Renjun can feel how his boyfriend's chest is rising and falling in a fast but steady pattern caused by how he charged off the bus to reunite with the younger.

But Renjun's own breathing is much faster; tears are welling up in his eyes and the first salty trails trace down his cheeks when Xiaojun pulls away from the hug to kiss his lips.

So many emotions are running havoc in his mind. It is early evening but he barely slept the previous night, his excitement keeping him awake. Xiaojun, on the other hand, seems unaffected. It'll probably be the jet lag, Renjun thinks.

Not that it matters because Xiaojun is here, tenderly kissing his lips and looping his strong arms around his waist to hold him closer.

"What took you so long?" Renjun asks, voice breathy and his lips graze against his boyfriends' as he speaks because they still haven't really parted yet. Xiaojun runs his fingers through Renjun's hair, which is slightly damp and very tangled.

"I stopped off to buy some ice cream for tonight. I texted you, baby." Xiaojun explains. Renjun falls back against his chest.

"My phone died." He whimpers. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Xiao. I... I'm stupid for not charging it and-"

"Shh." Xiaojun taps his finger against his lips to stop his rambling. Renjun wipes at his tears and stares earnestly into his boyfriend's eyes. "It's alright because I'm here now. Don't worry."

Renjun doesn't have the energy to respond in any way except with a nod, and Xiaojun accepts that and takes his hand into his own, the other occupied by his stuffed suitcase.

"Why don't you show me the drawings you've done when we get home? I've only seen them through a screen and I know that hasn't done them the justice they deserve." Xiaojun suggests.

Renjun's face lights up and he grabs his sketchbook and pencil, now much more confident in his skills and eager to sink into the comfort of a cheesy movie and his boyfriend's duvet, ice cream and kisses dissolving over their tongues.


	6. Raise the Roof: Yuil

They meet every night.

_Taeil approaches the bright blue front door_ _and smiles at the sight of the doormat. It is decorated with a huge heart with the word 'HOME' inside. This house has certainly become his home over the past few... days? Years? He soon lost track of how long ago he met the charismatic man who resides in the abode._

_He rings the doorbell, and the little tune has barely finished when the door flies open and the other man beckons him inside with a contagious smile._

_His hair is white and soft, like the edges of this world. It flows in wavy strands down to his shoulders, contrasting with the deep, mysterious orbs of his eyes, which entice Taeil in every time._

_Yuta is beautiful._

_They kiss with passion, Taeil finding himself pushed against the wall before Yuta leans back in to share his love for him. Taeil melts under the tingles of his soulmate's touch on his arms, on his waist, and on his neck. He sighs with satisfaction._

_"Hey, pretty." Yuta smirks down at him, and Taeil gazes back up. His words take a sweet moment to form in his throat; his soulmate is breath-taking._

_"He_ _y, angel." Taeil reciprocates the flirtatious greeting._

The night is dark, but not concealing many terrible secrets. Just dark. Clouds smother the sky and block out any attempt the moon makes at spreading its soothing light. It's technically just reflections of sunlight, much like how Taeil radiates with happiness as he sleeps - a reflection of Yuta's love for him.

He shuffles around, his sleep-filled limbs lazy, until he rolls over and finds Yuta's firm chest for him to rest his cheek on.

_"Why don't we go on a walk?" Yuta makes the same suggestion every night. But Taeil relishes in the comfort of knowing that the routine is always the same. He would never want to change it._

_They stroll down the pavement. In this world, the moon is glowing bright in the sky and it casts pretty shadows of the trees. Their steps are in sync and so are their minds and their every move. Yuta clasps his hand around Taeil's. He looks after him so well._

Yuta instinctively wraps his arms around his boyfriend's waist and pulls him in closer. He can vaguely smell the sweet, addictive scent of him. Not of a particular perfume or shampoo. Just him.

_They reach the river. The water glistens in the moonlight and reflects the stars. Taeil likens it to how Yuta's eyes seem to contain the stars on some days. The ripples of the stream make music, which twinkles and chimes and fills their ears with a wonderful harmony._

_They stop for a moment to kiss once more. The night is slightly chilly, but they warm each other up so they pay no attention to it._

_"I love you."_

_They both say it. They are so accustomed to each others' curves and each others' thinking and they descend into giggles before crossing to the other side to continue their walk._

_The path leads them through a forest. Leaves and twigs crunch and snap beneath their feet. It is even darker under the protection of the trees, but Yuta is Taeil's light and he guides him along and they soon reach another clearing._

Taeil's eyes begin to crack open. He doesn't register anything in their bedroom before Yuta tightens his hold on him and whispers the word 'sleeeeep'.

It is like a spell on him, and his eyes droop closed once more.

_Taeil returns from whatever daze he was in, making Yuta laugh and poke his hip teasingly._

_"Race you across the field!" Yuta exclaims and sets off, tearing through the grass and laughing with his whole lungs._

_Taeil's hand sparks with the remnants of his soulmate's fingers intertwined with his own. He craves to be physically connected like that again. So he realises that he has to chase after Yuta. Grumbling when he knows that it's the reason why Yuta even started such a game in the first place, he forces his legs to run._

Taeil's leg twitches. Yuta's heartrate increases and his hands become slightly sweaty.

_They run and run and eventually they reach the road again. Yuta stops by a lamppost across the street and calls his boyfriend over, waving his arm around like a lunatic. Taeil pants and stumbles up to him. Despite running like that every night, he doesn't seem to get any fitter._

_But suddenly it's not like every night._

_Taeil steps into the road. He is so focussed on how ethereal Yuta looks, the lamppost casting its light down on him as though he is holy and the star of the show, that he doesn't notice the other source of light._

_The headlights._

_A car speeds down the road, clearly paying no attention to the speed limit._

_Such monstrosities have never happened in this world before. It's their world. Their perfect paradise, created only for them and free of such sins._

_T_ _aeil is blissfully unaware._

_Yuta stop breathing for a moment. Time seems to slow down even further._

Yuta wakes up with a gasp.

_Taeil stops in the middle of the road when his boyfriend and soulmate disappears from under the lamppost. What's going on?_

Yuta watches with horror as the frown grows on Taeil's face. His hands are still sweaty and he is clutching on to each rapid breath he can draw into his lungs.

"Wake up!" 

He shakes Taeil's shoulders. He slaps his cheek. It pains him to be so violent, but everyone knows the consequences of dying in a dream. He can't let that happen. He can't lose his soulmate.

_Everything is becoming overwhelmingly bright but so dark at the same time. Taeil's face stings and his legs are weak. Without his soulmate in the same world as him, his heart aches terribly. Is this it? Is this the end?_

"Taeil!" Yuta screams his name.

There is no time to try to fall back asleep and join their dreamland again. Time ticks by slower in that world, so it is unlikely that the car has reached him yet, but it would still take too long. He hopes the car hasn't reached him yet.

_Something echoes through Taeil's mind. But it can't be heard over the deafening screeches and his own screams._

Taeil jolts. His eyes snap open. Yuta bursts into tears.

"Oh my... Taeil... I was so worried." Yuta wraps his arms around Taeil's shaking frame and plants kisses of relief all over his face.

Their shared dreamland has somehow been corrupted, but they will do everything they can to secure their relationship and their soulmate bond, and to ward off the evil.


	7. Volcano: Doyoung + Jeno + Jaemin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is inspired by absolutely nothing about the song except the title :D

"No!" Doyoung barrels across the room, flapping a tea towel around. He throws it onto the side so he can snatch the bottle of green paint off the table. "Be careful! Please!" He groans.

Most of the paint has already seeped out of the bottle and is smeared on the table in a giant puddle, occasionally dripping onto the closest chair and ruining the cushion. Doyoung is glad that he covered it with the protective mat first: the one that is shiny and covered with blue spots, saved for whenever Jeno decides to do some arts and crafts. Jaemin freezes when his best friend's dad glares at him. He sheepishly hides his hands behind his back, but the man has already spotted the green pigment coating them.

"Come over to the sink, Jaemin. Jeno, go and fetch some paper towels and wipe up as much paint as you can." Doyoung sighs and ushers Jaemin to stick his hands under the stream of warm water. He has to keep flicking his eyes between both kids to ensure that the water stays in the sink and that Jeno is managing to clean the table without making the situation worse.

Their model of a volcano is perched in the middle of the table. It is glistening with wet paint and is surrounded by Lego trees and people, although at first Jeno wasn't too pleased about sacrificing them from his collection. Doyoung dries Jaemin's hands with a towel and wishes he had insisted Johnny and Jaehyun let the children do their school project at their house. Jeno had wanted Jaemin to come around here and the parents had to just agree to avoid any tantrums over something so tiny. 

"I'm sorry." Jaemin mumbles and his eyes stare at the floor. His bottom lip wobbles and Doyoung's stomach flips with guilt.

"It's alright. Don't worry. It was just an accident." Doyoung replies and he pats Jaemin's back before leading him to the kitchen table. Jeno is standing there, blinking and slightly confused whilst holding the now bright green paper towels at an arm's length.

"Where do I put it, dad?" He asks. Doyoung just takes the paper and throws it into the bin. He is careful not to use too many fingers, or his own hands will turn green. He is glad that he only bought poster paint for kids; it is cheap and easily to wash off any surface.

"Why don't you take a break? You've been working on it all morning." Doyoung suggests. Last night, he picked out several films for them to watch. He hopes that they can get them to calm down.

"But we haven't finished yet!" Jeno whines and stamps his foot. Doyoung sucks in a breath. Jaemin looks between his friend and Doyoung and bites his lip, unsure if he should contribute to the bickering. "We need more green pain first." Jeno continues with a pout.

"Make some green paint, then." Doyoung replies. Jeno produces a grunt of confusion and Jaemin tilts his head to the side, curious.

"How?" Jaemin asks. Doyoung smiles, glad that he is about to teach them something new.

"You can mix blue paint and yellow paint together!" He exclaims. 

"Really?" Both children's eyes shoot open wide and his son claps his hands together as he jumps onto a chair and grabs a paintbrush, ready to get mixing.

"Yes." Doyoung confirms. He picks up the blue and the yellow paint bottles. The palette is absolutely covered in a whole plethora of shades because of the way Jaemin and Jeno have been messily dipping in and out of the different colours for the past three hours. He scrapes the remains of the paint away with hot water, dries it clean, then sits down to join them. 

He explains what he is doing as he squeezes out little drops of both colours in the corner of the palette. The paintbrush picks up some of both pigments, then he carefully mixes them together to achieve the same shade as the wasted bottle. Jeno and Jaemin watch him with amazement. 

"Wow, you're magic, dad!" Jeno gasps when he finishes his demonstration by sliding the palette across the table to the two boys.

Doyoung chuckles and doesn't deny the claim, instead prompting for them to give it a go. They copy the steps, but the product is a palette covered in ripples of blue and yellow, with varying hints of the green they were going for, yet both of them seem delighted by it and they begin to slap on the paint, any guilt from the spilt paint disappearing out the window.

The volcano is nearly complete. The entire assignment is not, however. Their class teacher told them that they have to do research and create a presentation about volcanoes, but Jeno and Jaemin had obviously skipped that part and dived straight into the practical part. Doyoung's lips subconsciously form a smile as he listens to them squealing and chattering away. He takes some photos. They are cheery, livened up by both the colours splattered everywhere and the pure joy on their faces. He sends them to Taeyong, his husband, with a caption gushing over how adorable they are. It's a shame that he has to work on a Saturday and Doyoung mindlessly twists the gold band around his finger as his heart misses his presence, even though it's the same every week.

"I think we're done!" Jeno exclaims and throws the paintbrush down. Jaemin follows the action. 

The volcano is a little wonky where the plastic bottle inside must have become partially broken off the base, despite it being covered in layers and layers of newspaper and glue to build up the shape. But it is clear that both of them have put a lot of time and effort into the model. 

"It looks good!" Doyoung praises them, then gets them to pose behind it for a photo, which he also sends to Taeyong and Jaehyun.

As a treat, he lets them raid the biscuit tin, although the sugar probably isn't the best idea. They both charge upstairs, no doubt plotting mischief, and Doyoung stares at the mess on the table. He has no idea how he is supposed to ferry the model volcano to school in one piece. He figures that Taeyong will quickly come up with a solution and gets to collecting up the paintbrushes and scraps of paper, the shouts of the two children from upstairs acting as uplifting background music.


	8. From Home: Jeno

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied/referenced past abuse + past self-harm + child neglect, bullying, insults, panic attacks, swearing, basically lots and lots of angst. No detailed descriptions of any of those things.

The world is a cruel place.

No one chooses to be born, but it happens anyway and then you have to deal with whatever hardships appear in your path. Parents raise their children, shape their morals and guide them through these hardships to set them on the right path to succeed in life.

But what if your parents aren't there?

Lee Jeno has never met his parents. Well, he has. He must have done when he was born. But he doesn't remember being born, so he can't recall even the tiniest detail about his mother or his father.

Instead, he grew up in the childcare system and was thrown around from foster home to foster home, none of which proved to be a suitable environment for him to live in.

He thinks that the world isn't a suitable environment for him to live in.

"How was school today?" Mr Han asks over dinner, his eyebrows knitted together in concern and his chopsticks poised in the air as he awaits a response.

Jeno pushes his food around the plate. He is too hungry but he doesn't feel like eating. The kitchen is stuffy and small and the extractor fan is still whirring above the oven, blurring his thoughts into one big, heavy cloud in his mind.

"He asked you a question. Have the decency to answer when spoken to!" Mrs Han slaps her hand down on the table, making the crockery rattle, and Jeno flinches.

"It was alright." He squeaks out.

Mr Han loosens his red tie from around his neck and Mrs Han purses her lips, the deep pink lipstick bringing out the spark of a fire in her eyes.

Jeno has been living here for nearly three months. Three months of strict rules: no seeing your friends after school, no eating in your bedroom (or sometimes no eating full stop), no television, do all your homework in the kitchen under strict supervision, no speaking unless spoken to... The list goes on and on and so do the days and Jeno just wants to leave.

He has planned countless escape routes with Donghyuck and Jisung over the recent weeks. He would run away to Donghyuck's house overnight, and Jisung would come, too. Johnny, Donghyuck's dad, isn't exactly aware of their plans but his son assured them both that he would be completely fine with the arrangements. Obviously he wouldn't, but Jeno likes to imagine such a fantasy when everything is too overwhelming.

Deep down, he scolds himself for being so ungrateful. Some orphans end up on the streets but he has always had a roof over his head, even if at times that is where his luxuries ended. At least Mr and Mrs Han attempt to show vague interest in his studies. At least they've never laid a hand on him.

"Jeno!" Mr Han barks, and the gruffness of his voices makes the boy drop his chopsticks. They clatter on the plate before rolling onto the table to land on the floor.

Jeno freezes. Then his hands begin to shake and his throat constricts and his eyes sting. He's messed up. They'll scream at him. They'll kick him out. The guilt and panic surging through his chest force him to stand up and snatch the chopsticks from the floor tile. He is back on the chair and fumbling to grab a few grains of rice within a matter of seconds. The plate is blurred in his vision, not from how his glasses are wonky but from the tears welling up and threatening to spill. He chews carefully, begging the action to ground him.

"You're so clumsy. Pathetic." Mr Han spits. "I don't know why we agreed to take you in."

The words are not new to Jeno, but they hurt nonetheless. He's heard them leave the mouths of far too many people over the course of his life and the number keeps climbing and climbing. What even is the point of living, if he is rejected wherever he goes?

"I'm s-sorry, sir." Jeno manages.

"Speak up, you wimp." Mrs Han scoffs. She stands up, her frame looming over Jeno, and his plate is whipped out from under him before he can swallow the six grains of rice he has been incessantly chewing through his distress. A hand is extended and Jeno passes her the chopsticks, followed by his phone, then stumbles up the stairs.

He gets sent away from the dinner table most evenings and he doesn't think he would even be alive if it weren't for Donghyuck's supply of food at lunchtime. He doesn't think he would be alive without Donghyuck.

Mrs Han stalks after him to ensure that his bedroom door is locked from the outside, preventing him from escaping, and Jeno doesn't exhale until the final creak of the stairs sounds out, signalling that she is downstairs.

Jeno removes his glasses and that is when the first tear falls. His nose is already blocked and the warm saltiness burns his face, then a silent sob wracks through his body; he has perfected muffling the worst of his breakdowns throughout the years. He collapses into the pillow and is glad that he can't smell the sickly scent of the fabric softener, his thoughts jumbling and taunting him with all of the insults he faces every single day. His fingers seek out the fluffy stuffed cat on his bed. It's his only cuddly toy, gifted by his social worker Joy a few years ago after a particularly... bad experience in a foster home.

He hugs it to his chest and buries his wet face into the fur, mumbling about how he wants to leave and be hugged by Donghyuck. His best friend gives the best hugs. He channels his sorrow and anger through his fingers to clamp down on the toy and he counts his breaths.

In.

_Why do you always mess everything up?_

Out.

_No one loves you._

In.

Out.

The thoughts are persistent and each time one dances across his mind, his breath hitches and he is back to square one. He has a massive headache, his throat is dry and he just wants to sleep. Maybe sleep forever. Anything to escape this cruel reality.

When Jeno finally calms down enough to wipe the tears away and let go of the cat plushie, his stomach is rumbling with hunger. He stares longingly at the door. The paint is chipping off and the white has discoloured into a strange yellowy-brown, and he turns his gaze to the floor. The carpet isn't in a much better state. His entire room is lifeless. The only visible signs that someone actually lives there are the small polaroid picture of Jeno, Donghyuck and Jisung on the desk, and the plushie on the blanket over his lumpy mattress. His minute selection of clothes are all tucked neatly into his wardrobe, and the rest of his belongings were all confiscated by Mr and Mrs Han at some stage or another.

Save for his school books and the ancient laptop. He is only granted access to a charger once a week, making completing homework on it near impossible most of the time, but today there seems to be at least a hint of luck on his side. The screen lights up and Jeno flicks his eyes to the door and holds his breath, checking for any signs of someone barging in. He's not allowed to use the device for anything except school work. So he feels adrenaline surge through him when he replaces his glasses on his nose and opens up his Instagram account in a private browser.

He's never posted anything. Donghyuck created the account for him so that he can keep in touch with him and Jisung, as his texts are sifted through on the daily by his supposed foster parents. He clicks on the single chat in his messages.

Crescent_moon

_Hi?_

He sends the message and waits for someone to read it. Barely a minute passes before Donghyuck is typing, and a smile flickers across his exhausted face.

Yourlocalsunshine

_Nono!!_

_Are you okay?_

Crescent_moon

_I'm fine o(^▽^)o_

_How are you doing?_

Yourlocalsunshine

_That cute emoji isn't convincing me_

_Fuck_

_You're not fine, Nono_

Crescent_moon

_I'm fine Duckie_

_I promise :)))_

Yourlocalsunshine

_Nope_

_Tell me_

_Or I'll video call you : <_

Crescent_moon

_NO_

_no_

_DOn'g vido call_

_Don't*_

_Video*_

More tears start to spring to his eyes and he bites on his lip while Donghyuck types out his next message. His friend can tell when he's lying even through the protection of a screen, and he curses and thanks him at the same time. There's a crash from downstairs and he winces.

Jwisungieee

_Video call?_

_I'm down_

The next messages come from Jisung instead and Jeno jolts forward in his seat to smash out a response. They can't video call. No. He doesn't have any headphones and the laptop is so broken that the volume is impossible to mute. He'd get caught within ten seconds.

Crescent_moon

_No Jisung_

_We're NOT doing a video call rn :((_

_Please don't_

Yourlocalsunshine

_Jeno._

_You are going to tell me what the problem is_

_NOW_

_I want to help :((_

Jwisungieee

_Jen?_

_U there?_

Jeno shakes his head. His hands are trembling again. They can't see him but he hopes they get the message from his sudden silence in the chat.

Yourlocalsunshine

_Jeno baby, please talk to us_

_Have you eaten dinner? Drunk enough water?_

He shakes his head twice more. He hasn't really had dinner and he finished the bottle of water Donghyuck gave him at school hours ago, meaning that the tears are only dehydrating him beyond repair. A minute passes. Neither Jisung nor Donghyuck send a message, so Jeno can picture their exasperation on the other side of the screen. But he can hardly make out the letters on the keyboard and his hands are too unstable to even attempt to find them through muscle memory.

Yourlocalsunshine

_Shit_

_Nono, they took your food from you again didn't they?_

_Fuck them_

Jwisungieee

_R u in ur room?_

Crescent_moon

_Im tiresd_

_i wanr to dleep_

Yourlocalsunshine

_Are you breathing properly?_

_Jeno I'm worried_

_You don't deserve this_

_You're so beautiful and amazing and kind and smart and funny_

Jwisungieee

_Yeah_

_what he said_

Yourlocalsunshine

_Park, either comfort him properly or leave_

_this is serious_

Jwisungieee

_I am comforting him_

_I'm trying_

_K?_

Jeno wipes his eyes just in time to see his friends bickering and the weight shifts from his chest a little. It's enough to help him breathe.

But then the air is stolen from him.

Footsteps.

Jeno slams the laptop lid down and dives onto the bed, curling up to face the wall and he clutches the cat toy again.

The footsteps get closer.

He squeezes his eyes shut when the door unlocks, then when it creaks open. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears and he hates it, absolutely hates it.

He prays that they don't spot the light flashing on the side of the laptop.

｡｡oOo｡｡

Joy is nice, don't get Jeno wrong, but he despises it whenever she walks through the front door in her long trench coat, the thick folder full of Jeno's history clutched to her chest. He despises it because they all sit down in the living room and he is then forced to spend time in the same room as Mr and Mrs Han each week.

"Jeno, sweetie! Good to see you again!" The woman beams when she appears in the doorway, thanks Mrs Han for taking her coat, and strides over to sit on the sofa next to Jeno.

He has his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes fixated on the black television screen he's never allowed to use, rocking forwards and backwards. When Joy approaches, his nose fills with her floral perfume. The sweet familiarity brings his rocking to a still. He blocks out the general conversation between the adults by stroking his cat plushie and he rehearses his lines in his head.

Everything is fine.

Mr and Mrs Han are looking after him well.

He is well-behaved and hasn't had any bad thoughts.

Everything is fine.

"So, how is everything?" Joy asks when she has laid out the paperwork across the coffee table and found her pen.

"Fine." Jeno says.

He glances at his foster parents, who are glaring at him with their fierce, wrinkly eyes as though daring him to expose them and their monstrous ways. Joy lets out a forced stream of air.

"Let me rephrase that." She taps her pen against the folder, no doubt scanning over the recounts of Jeno's past. "How are you, Jeno?"

"Fine." He mumbles. His fingers mindlessly flick the cat's ear.

The room is tense and he is cold in his t-shirt. He hates how his skin prickles and his scars are there for everyone to pretend they're not staring at them. The pale ridges scatter his arms, but only one of them was made by him. He is even too weak to go down that route. 

"He's doing very well. No problems at school, he behaves at home, and he seems happy." Mrs Han states with such a falsified smile that Jeno's stomach twists. He squeezes the cat's tail.

Joy twists a strand of hair around her finger, purses her lips and writes something down. Mr Han shifts in the armchair. There's no way he's comfortable in his shirt and tie, but he never switches them out for a more suitable attire so no one comments on it.

"That's all I need to know." Joy smiles and nods in approval at the foster parents. Jeno frowns a little harder and looks at her face, examining the glint in her eyes. "Now onto our private chat. Please could you two exit the room now?"

Jeno doesn't have sight of it but he feels the final burn of the glares he is subjected to as the couple leave. The door slams shut and he finally relaxes. Joy shifts closer and holds her arms out. He buries his head into her shoulder and lets his eyes fall shut, never letting go of his plushie.

"Oh Jeno, darling." She mutters sadly. Her hands rub up and down his back in soothing circles. "Take these. You're still too skinny." The hug is interrupted so she can fish a few cereal bars from her bag, then Jeno is leaning into the affection once more. "We've already arranged for you to leave this place. I'm sorry it hasn't worked out. I'm so sorry, honey."

Jeno doesn't cry. He just lets his mind succumb to the emptiness. They've been in this position too many times so he is sort of immune to it by now. She has been one of the few constants in his life, and he is guilty that she has failed yet again at finding him a safe home. They pull away, and Joy runs her fingers through his overgrown hair.

"They don't let me see my friends." Jeno whispers, voice hoarse. His eyes get stuck on the television again. He can make out a vague reflection and even from that it's obvious he looks a mess. "They don't let me eat. I'm not allowed my phone half of the time." With each confession, his hands grip the poor cat plushie harder and harder, so much that his knuckles turn white and his fingers ache from the exertion.

"Tomorrow I'm coming over to help you pack your things. You're returning to the children's home. I think I've finally found the perfect match for you. There's a couple interested in adoption." Joy announces. Jeno isn't sure if he should be excited or not, but he forces a smile.

Social interactions aren't his forte, as too many of his foster parents have locked him up, kept him secluded and isolated from his friends. Too many people have lost his trust, to the extent that he avoids conversations just so he doesn't have to go through that pain another time.

"Thank you."

｡｡oOo｡｡

"What's wrong with him?"

"Hey, mute!"

"Why weren't you on the school trip?"

"Stay away from him!"

"Shut it, Donghyuck."

"No, _you_ shut it!"

" _Someone's_ being a bit feisty today."

"If you don't leave my friend alone I will not hesitate to beat you up then slit your damn throat and rip out all your entrails and fucking feed you to-"

"Donghyuck! My office, now! The rest of you, get to lessons!"

"Jeno! Focus! I asked you to give the answer to question three."

"Mr Kim! Jeno hasn't done any of the questions."

"For Goodness' sake, are you trying to fail my class? See me after the lesson. I'll be phoning home, too!"

School is just as bad.

｡｡oOo｡｡

Jeno examines his reflection in the bathroom mirror. One of the other kids is shouting and banging on the door for him to get out, but he ignores it. His cheeks are sunken and his eyes are weighed down by heavy bags. When he tugs his jumper off, his ribs and collarbones are prominent. He's had a growth spurt recently too, making his frame even lankier. The greasy tufts of hair on his head are in desperate need of a haircut.

Yet, despite all that, there is a couple waiting downstairs in Joy's office, and they want to meet him. Why? He wouldn't want to meet himself.

Sighing, he puts his jumper back on and slouches out of the bathroom, not acknowledging the presence of the other boy who was shouting and stepping over another kid having a tantrum on the floor, then bumps into Joy halfway to the office.

"Jeno, honey, this way!" She guides him by his shoulders. His feet are obliged to move.

Sat on the plush sofa are two young men. Their jawlines are defined but their faces are overall soft and gentle, lighting up with smiles when their eyes land on Jeno. He wriggles out of Joy's hold. He's too familiar with the process by now and just wants them to hurry up and come to the conclusion that everyone always makes: we don't want him.

"Nice to meet you, Jeno. I'm Taeyong. This is my husband, Jaehyun." Both men stand up and Jeno takes a little step backwards to hide behind Joy when they hold out their hands to greet him. His eyes dart from their arms to their faces, to Joy, and back to their hands before he hesitantly returns the gesture.

They go through the usual stuff - arrangements for days out together and home visits and countless paperwork. Jeno stares as subtly as possible at where the couple's hands are intertwined. He has nothing against them being gay, but the thought of them actually loving each other is novel because most of his foster parents seemed to despise each other just as much as they despised him. He supposes that it must be a good sign. A sign of stability in their relationship and of a safe home.

"We have three cats!" Taeyong exclaims, and that is when Jeno zones back into the conversation. He tilts his head to the side and studies their expressions for any signs of insincerity, but finds none. "Their names are Bongsik, Nal and Seol." A smile spreads across Jeno's lips and his eyes crinkle up.

"Real cats?" He asks.

"Yep!" Jaehyun replies. Jeno's mouth drops open. He loves his cat plushie but three real cats? That's a dream come true!

"I have a cat, too. He doesn't have a name but he's very soft." Jeno looks at the floor as he speaks. His voice sounds foreign to his ears.

"That's cool! Our Mark isn't always too fond our cats, but they're so sweet and gentle." Taeyong says with a wistful smile.

"M-Mark?" Jeno stops fiddling with his fingers. He is engrossed in the conversation and already feels at ease in the presence of the couple. It's a sensation he has only ever experienced around Joy, Donghyuck and Jisung until today.

"He's our son. And hopefully he'll be your brother soon." Jaehyun explains. He grins at Taeyong as he pronounces the word 'son'. 

Having a brother would certainly take some getting used to, but after a few more minutes of hearing all about this Mark, he is sure that it wouldn't be too difficult.

Once the couple have left with the promise of meeting up over the weekend on their tongues, Joy turns to Jeno.

"What do you think?" She is restless in her seat and he can tell that she is proud of herself for matching them together.

Jeno ponders over the past hour. He is buzzing with energy and he physically can't push the smile off his lips, and he wants to laugh and cry at the same time because he longs to get to know Taeyong and Jaehyun and move in with them as soon as possible. They didn't judge him for his scruffy appearance, or for his timid voice. Instead, they offered him welcoming smiles and lighthearted gossip about their lives.

He knows he's finally found his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually a bit of Jeno's backstory from my wattpad book Coded in my Heart! I had this already planned out and I wasn't going to post it anywhere, but it sort of fitted for this song so I decided to write it! If you want to read more, go and check my book out @Lifeisjustmeh :) It's Haechan-centric, with Jisung and Jeno as his sidekicks.


End file.
